A Focus of Will
by tiddlywinks
Summary: Sometimes it's about the battle, not the victory. Jareth appears at Sarah's side at a, ahem, inopportune moment. Children do not read! NO LONGER COMPLETED! I have decided to continue...
1. Things That Go 'Bump' in the Night

Author's note: This is my first fanfic, and first time writing since high school... so R&R with consideration. This was a PWP, but hey, some things develop further than you thought they would.

disclaimer: The labyrinth and the characters within do not belong to me. Lucky, lucky things that they are.

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She trembled.

Sarah had never realised how truly responsive nipples could be. For so long they had been nothing more than a nuisance that the boys on the school bus pretended not to stare at on winter's mornings, but now they seemed to take on a life of their own as she brushed over them lightly with her knuckles.

A gasp of pleasure escaped the side of her mouth and she froze under the blankets. Her ears pricked almost as high as her nipples she allowed the soothing sounds of the house – the hum of the refrigerator, the drone of the far off highway – to relax her once again. The stifled a giggle; she doubted her standard excuse of "but I'm rehearsing a play!" probably wouldn't go down too well if Karen or her dad burst into the room right now. Not that it usually worked but—_stop getting distracted Sarah!_ she chided herself.

She allowed her fingers to go lower, smoothing in circles over the belly of her cotton nightdress, exploring the tension and release of muscles underneath. Warmth spread out from her hands, and she followed the impulse to go under the material, inhaling sharply at the chill of her fingers on the heat of her stomach. Vague formless images of attraction wafted through her mind. Snippets from movies, mini-scenarios of her at parties, flashes of various faces as she sifted through her indistinct thoughts of attraction.

Her eyes were open as she made those first exploratory movements underneath her underwear, but began to slide closed as she lost herself in sensation.

Her friend Casey had suggested this little 'private time' to Sarah, after she had turned down once again another guy asking her out.

"You need to know what you're missing! Otherwise you'll just never get interested and then you'll die an old maid, and then we'll never get a chance to gossip about our children together." Casey had declared in her usual dramatic style.

Sarah was old to never have had a boyfriend, despite more than a few opportunities. At eighteen she had left dolls, dress-ups and make-believes behind yet she had never found any boy to have more than a fleeting attraction. She had often wondered whether she was gay, but she felt no more for girls that she did for guys and if Casey's fantastic red hair and athletic figure didn't do anything for her than no girl ever could. Perhaps it was the fact that Sarah was so wilful that she couldn't respect the uncertainty of her schoolmates that asked her out. She needed someone that could stand up to her, someone that knew what they were doing in the face of her own inexperience.

Speaking of inexperience, Casey had said it helped to focus upon one thing, one guy, one fantasy. Her mouth twisted up into a smile as the only possible fancy crept into her head. She was dressed in the finest of ball gowns, twirling through the evening…

There was something growing inside of her as she shoved her hips desperately against her hand, feeling as though even her eyeballs were tingling, straining to burst free. She was reaching out, pushing and pulling with body and mind _still twirling now, clasped so close in his arms _ coming so close to something now, something just out of reach _gloves gripping her tightly, possessively, such wanting_ Sarah felt more than heard the mewling sound that escaped her lips, the vibration of her throa---

---There was no storm, no fancy pyrotechnics. Just a voice crisply cutting through the soft sounds from the bed. "Well, this _is_ a most interesting sight."

_Sarah froze beneath her blanket, her body crying out with unfulfilled climax, her mind suddenly a block of ice._

Then she snaked a hand out to flip on her bedside lamp. A horrible sight greeted her… Jareth, His Highness, King of the Goblins…

King of Bad Timing.

He sprawled casually across the armchair in the corner of her room. Usual gloves, hair and uncomfortable tights… She swung her gaze away from his pants to his smirk of a face. "Oh shit".

She switched the light off again.


	2. The King of Bad Timing

Author's Note: Thankyou for the reviews! This started off as a one-shot piece (never fear! This story will proceed at least as far as where all your dirty minds want it to be) but I'm thinking I might make a bit longer. This chapter has a bit more on my thoughts of magic, and if people like it I may work it out a bit further.

Disclaimer: I own the labyrinth and I sell all my stories and make stacks of money from it.

Disclaimer to Above Disclaimer: I am lying.

Now read on!

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"Go away. How did you get here? Go away." It came out as babble and she squeezed her eyes shut with a sudden need to control herself.

"I didn't call you. You have no right." Her voice was not so much cold as unnaturally calm.

She gingerly opened her eyes again and realised that Jareth had conjured some kind of fae light, enough to see by – her cheeks burned with that thought – but no more than a computer screen in a dark room.

"Generally I like to see the people I'm talking to pet… although there are so many things to do in the dark… and I see you know at least one of them." At Sarah's intake of breath he paused. "To answer your question – and I know you're not much into math – but it's a very simple formula of focus, intent and completion."

Sarah had a whole new heat flooding her body now. It was adrenalin, taken straight from the test-tube marked frustration. They may have danced once _twirling, spinning in his arms_ but she was completely clear on the reason that she had broken away to smash the mirrors of fantasy. He always _presumed_. Presumed when he knew nothing about her, about who she really was. "How can you presume to know that I don't like math?" She snapped.

He replied by inclining his head gracefully. Someone who didn't know his manipulative nature might consider that a motion of apology, of concession. But somehow he managed to make it a gesture that drew attention to the fantasy art on her walls, to her books on plays and literature. Ok, so perhaps she hadn't chosen that battle particularly well. She took the pause to subtly readjust her nightgown under the blankets. Jareth's head was still down, but Sarah had an annoying feeling that he knew exactly what she was doing.

"Focus and intent? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Completion." The satisfied way he said it made Sarah want to bite her lower lip, but she covered it with a sigh of exasperation. "Think of it this way Sarah," he held out an hand in a familiar gesture as a clear orb materialized, "I intended for a crystal to appear, my focus was strong, and..." he flicked the crystal up to the tip of one finger and allowed it to balance in defiance of gravity, "we have completion."

"Last time I checked I wasn't able to make flashy little baubles appear whenever I pleased." Here Sarah allowed a tinge of Jareth's accent to infect her own. "Though if you had the _intent_ to come here and invade my privacy – in a very unregal way I might add – then you certainly have your completion." Sarah arched an eyebrow in impersonation.

Jareth's forehead began to twitch upwards, but he stopped himself with an almost obvious effort. Priceless.

"I was simply trying to illustrate a point Sarah. Of course you could never create a crystal. Almost no mortal could – even if they knew enough to form intention, focus is always so lacking in your breed." At this he shifted his gaze back to the orb on his finger. "But we weren't talking about you and the power of the spheres. We were talking about what could possibly drive a mortal with an entirely," his mouth twisted around the word like he wanted to taste as little of it as possible, "_human_ sense of concentration to have such focus and intent to call me to your presence. The want – no the _need_ for me must have been very strong." Jareth sighed. "And before you so tiresomely start your incessant protesting, we are both aware that there are rules. I could not be here without your express invitation."

"In that case, thankyou for the visit then Your Majesty." Easy now... "I assure you that you needn't reply to any invitation in the future." Sarah winced on the inside. If her invite came from where she thought it did, she was as good as saying… "that is, you shan't be hearing from me again." There. Case closed.

"It's not as simple as that Sarah." He swivelled his torso to face her directly. "Surely I was called for some kind of purpose?" His voice was sugary innocence and syrupy suggestion.

It was although the outlying regions of her brain had just shut down. _Say something!_ she shrieked silently at herself in desperation.

A light squeaking wove its way between the two. It took a moment for Sarah to realise that it was the crystal still perched atop of Jareth's index finger. It was rotating slowly, and the friction on the leather of his glove was like a screw being leisurely driven into Sarah's composure. But as screws tend to do, it was serving only to tighten – and in this case it was her self-control. Two could play at this damned 'meaningful pauses' game.

"Of course there was a purpose Jareth." She rearranged herself on the bed, her pause not intended to blatantly pose herself but to make him aware of the rustling of sheets. "I need some trash taken out." She gestured regally at the small wastebasket under the desk. "It can be so hard to sleep when these little things keep niggling away. Be a dear and take care of it will you?"

"Oh how you humans do like to talk of the mundane!" Jareth said airily. "I had forgotten how much you liked to pretend Sarah. I'm sure you would play the violin as the city burned" His mouth twisted into a faraway smile as he thought of the old days of Rome while Sarah pulled her covers around her tighter with a confused expression. "But of course I wouldn't expect you to know anything of history, pet." Jareth's eyes riveted themselves to Sarah's form again causing his earlier phrase to echo through her mind: '_focus and intent love… Focus, intent and completion.'_ She didn't dare to think what his intent was in this case, although he seemed content to follow her thoughts through to their logical conclusion as he intentionally conjured a crystal and twirled it about with his fingers.

She started as he rose from the chair, his ungainly position flowing smoothly into his usual regal stance. 'For someone with a bird for a totem animal or whatever, he sure moves like a cat' Sarah thought to herself. Although for a moment she was sure he was going to approach the bed, he shifted direction and leant against her chest of drawers. Freeing his arms (nothing up the sleeve, nothing at all) he brought his hands up in front of him and conjured a shining, perfect crystal.

"I thought we already established that the old 'I will give you your dreams' trick wouldn't work on me Jareth." Sarah's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Oh do pay attention Sarah." This seemed to be all he was willing to say, seemingly with all of his 'superior' attention focused on his own crystals. _Typical_, thought Sarah. _It's always about the guy's balls._

The silence stretched out. And snapped.

"Would you stop playing around!" Sarah blurted with frustration. At that his mismatched eyes snapped up to her own, filled with a sort of predatory recrimination, as though she had been as rude as to interrupt a lion's daydream. Not dropping his gaze he inclined his head "Certainly".

Sarah almost instinctively shouted warning as the ball abruptly dropped out of Jareth's graceful hand; looking so much like a fumbled catch it was shockingly uncharacteristic. But as the light broke along with the crystal Sarah bit her lip with apprehension of how nothing Jareth did was ever without purpose… and oh how he loved to twist her words.

The room now was pitch black – darker than it could possibly be, given the streetlight just outside her window. Instead she stretched out her senses as much as she could, straining to hear above the thundering of her own blood through her ears. She knew he was still there; there was no doubt about that. One thing you could never forget about the Goblin King was his sense of presence. Sarah had no hesitation that she would know he was even if it was on the opposite side of a football stadium. That didn't put her in too good stead now though, because given the size of her room he could be no more than three metres away and that was so close she could practically feel him all around her.

"Ja…" she paused to clear away the tremor in her throat, "Jareth?"

"I thought you might feel more comfortable like this love. You seem to like the idea of me so much more when it's dark." She could hear the chuckle on the end of his breath, but felt she could breathe again herself as his words were still coming from her chest of drawers. Obviously he hadn't moved yet and was just having fun at her expense. A pretty big 'just', but she was almost willing to overlook it for the moment.

Almost.

"Why the games Jareth?" Sarah drew her tattered mind together to launch a counterattack. She was pressed up against the headboard, body as tight and tense as a prize-fighter waiting for an opening.

"As before, Sarah, I follow only your wishes. No games." She heard his fingers thrum neatly on the wood of her vanity, the sound slightly dulled by the glove.

"You may not realise this Sarah, but you are _painfully_ transparent. I can hear your heart from here. I feel every contraction, every… release." His low voice held the promise of so many releases. But shaking off that thought Sarah realised he had kept speaking. "--can taste your breathing, can smell your movement." Sarah caught a glimpse of sheen off golden hair as Jareth inclined his head to indicate the fog of sensations that surrounded him.

"I never understood why so many mortals insist upon drunken fumblings for these first _precious_ moments of awakening, drugs to dull sensati—"

"And you said mortals like to waffle on!" Sarah interrupted with an unladylike snort.

Jareth continued on smoothly, "Waffles? As much as I'm flattered you're thinking of our breakfast already I do have a point I'd like to get to." He took her silence as permission to carry on. "Do you not feel alive right now? Are you not shiningly, vibrantly aware of every part of your body? I haven't even touched you once but already your skin imagines a thousand contacts."

"You'll never touch me" Her voice was low with unconcealed threat. "I hate you."

Jareth's laughter rang surprisingly genuine. "But hate isn't the opposite of love dear Sarah! They are but opposite poles and therefore each is as _highly_ attractive as the other." She could hear his footsteps as he began to approach her bed. "No other two emotions have as many similarities, have the same _passion_."

He sounded very serious. "The only person one devotes more time and energy to than one's lover is one's enemy."

Sarah felt the mattress depress with a sudden weight at her feet and she struck out blindly, catching something with a fleshy thud. This didn't stop Jareth's speech though as he caught her legs and pulled from her sitting position down to sprawl upon her bed. "The true contradiction to hate and love - is indifference," He let go of her legs and Sarah could feel Jareth's weight shift up and alongside her body, not touching although her abused nerves were now crying out for something _anything_ to kill the apprehension of waiting.

The next few words were trailed throatily against her collar as Jareth moved in to brush his lips against her neck. "And we both know that the one thing you could never feel for me would be indifference."


	3. Letting Go

Disclaimer: You know what I'm going to say. And if you don't, check chapter one.

Author's notes: Well, here is my third and final chapter of this story. It has turned a bit dark, and I think I should go back and rewrite the first two chapters so they line up a bit better, but this story just begged to be written. Jareth and Sarah's relationship was always going to be twisted, from the very beginning. So for the love of peaches, tell me what you think! (Kudos to La Pitura for that classic line :P )

There's nothing I hate more than Jareth 'vanishing' clothing. Of course, this scene was so tricky to write I was tempted to do just that but NO! Magical undressing is for the weak! But this is my first really naughty scene I've written, so go easy.

Also thankyou to Pas-De-Chat – that's one of the nicest compliments I've gotten. I don't have a beta so there may be some typos, but I promise to NEVER EVER get 'lose' and 'loose' mixed up, as is wont to happen around here (groan).

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It was not ripples that shot all over her body, but the very opposite. She felt as though her skin had just contracted in around his mouth, like the light inhale of her flesh to his kiss had sucked all her nerves to that one point of her skin.

She turned and placed her palm flat against his torso to push him away from her. But as soon as her hand came into contact with his chest she felt his muscles tighten. _Ah-ha!_ Painfully transparent indeed! Quick as a flash she made her decision – she would use Jareth's own weapons against him.

Pushing herself upwards and sideways she pinned his body down under her own, the shock of the move forcing a surprised Jareth onto his back. He growled under his breath as he realised she had brought the blankets with her; a flimsy yet impenetrable barrier between his pelvis and the delicious weight that bore down upon it. But after seeing the taken aback look on Sarah's face though he knew that it mustn't be that much of a barrier after all. "You're just full of surprises today kitten." He grunted as Sarah shifted slightly. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Oh I haven't changed my mind Jareth." She smiled inwardly at how he lifted his head towards hers as her face came down towards him. "I'm just proving that I can beat you at any game you care to name." She deftly avoided his lips and pressed her cheek against his, now whispering. "And you're going to tell me what it is you're really doing here." Sarah straightened up, flipping her dark locks Pantene style to settle around her shoulders once more. Another groan from the Goblin King.

"You want the reason I answered your summons?" Sarah's tongue pushed itself against the roof of her mouth _(be in charge, don't be affected by him Sarah c'mon)_ at the sensation of Jareth's hands creeping up her thighs, the fingertips resting gently under the hem of her nightgown. "It's very simple," his eyes looked almost sad as they drilled into her own, "I came because you are unable to love."

Sarah made a very Jareth-like smirk. "Unable to love you, you mean? Or do you give yourself so much credit that I would never be able to love anyone after you?" His eyes were still staring up at her, a deep resignation within them. Not at what she had said she was sure, but something much much deeper. Despite the reaction of his body, she suddenly felt judged and embarrassed at being as forward as to – _straddle,_ there was no other word for it – the Goblin King. At that raw look in his eyes she pushed herself backwards onto his thighs, breaking the sexual contact. But Jareth followed through on her motion and sat up, arms wrapping around her back and holding her uncomfortably close. How could she be so stupid to believe she had had control of the Goblin King, even for a moment?

"No Sarah." He held her fast as she struggled. And as much as he enjoyed the wiggling – she could still feel the evidence of his arousal pressed between them – his voice was at once steely and sad. "I once sent you a perfect dream of perfect love. And you broke it." His arms tightened at her sides. "You broke the dream of love. And without the dream of it, how could you ever achieve it?"

"That's stupid."

"Think about it Sarah. You shouldn't have said no to me when I offered myself to you at the end of the Labyrinth." His hands were well settled on her back.

Sarah almost laughed at the Goblin King's massive ego, but stopped when she saw the serious look on his face, mere inches away from her own. "You were lying. You were trying to trick me."

"You say that because love is beyond you now. Beyond you then. You don't believe in it, you can't dream of it."

"It's not true. I love Toby, I love my dad, I love Merlin, I love, ha, long walks on the beach… I have plenty of love."

"Not this sort of love." He leaned in close to her, placing his hand around the nape of her neck. For the aggressiveness of his position it was a surprisingly gentle kiss. Sarah stiffened as she felt his soft lips hard brush against her own. It was with great effort that she twisted her head to the side, and the hand that had been holding her head wandered back down her side to loop around her back once more. He looked altogether too pleased with himself.

"Even assuming you're telling the truth, what's the point then? What's done is done. I can still be happy." Sarah thought frantically over the last few years. Had she even had a crush on anyone after she had returned from the Labyrinth? Had she ever felt anything more than disdain for those who approached her? "No, you could never be happy." She shifted her eyes away from his intense gaze. "I thought you would be happy that my life would be incomplete. Appropriate ending and all that for the girl who dared to defy you." Her voice quivered at all the unexpressed emotion at having him so close, so masculine, and so arrogantly certain of her fate. "Why can't you leave me alone?"

"Why would you invite more loneliness to your life? Your empty, bare, human life." The last part was a statement that almost made Sarah's heart break. It was so true. She had wondered whether she was destined to be alone forever, whether there was a purpose to how her life was ending up. Seeing her bewildered expression Jareth continued softly. "How many suitors have you entertained Sarah? Or do you question, somewhere deep inside, that there is a point to it for you?"

Sarah swallowed her hurt at his words down hard. "Let me get this straight. You have been desperately waiting to return Aboveground to talk to me because _I'm not dating?_"

"I never said I returned just to talk to you." Although Sarah had been uncomfortable with her closeness to the Goblin King, she had begun to calm just a little at his inaction. But he was moving again, lifting his left hand to his mouth and pulling off his glove with his teeth. Sarah took the opportunity to shift further away but his other arm tightened on her hip and he lifted his eyebrow with reproach. Wiggling his fingers free of the leather he stroked her hair with his bare hand. For some reason Jareth divesting himself of his glove made Sarah flame with embarrassment; it felt as personal as another man taking off his pants. _Stop thinking of those damn pants!_ she admonished herself fiercely.

"We're well matched to each other Sarah. It's time you admitted this, now more than ever." At this he lifted Sarah off his lap with a sigh. She felt her mind clear slightly and her eyes narrowed in anger. "You shouldn't try to manipulate me." Jareth simply continued his explanation. "If you never feel love, you will grow bitterer and harsher with every passing year. Resentment will drive you away from others. Soon you will find pleasure only in inflicting pain on others. Even if you hold onto your empathy you will have no respect for your body. You will come to treat yourself as a mere commodity. Your earlier position on my lap shows that you already have no scruples in that area."

"So it's ok for you to waltz in here and try to seduce me to get your way, but as soon as I try it I'm not respecting myself? You… you…" Sarah was almost rendered mute by her rage. "You… chauvinist!"

"My actions cannot be judged on the same scale as yours." Jareth replied cryptically.

"Is that why you're here then? I'm due to become a slut so you thought you'd pay a visit?" She sat up on the edge of the bed. Why did that thought so horrify and intrigue her at the same time? "You could always be cruel Sarah. I just don't want you to become brutal." He moved up behind her, biting her on the shoulder with an air of consideration. "At least, not without a safety word."

She simply put her head in her hands, a laugh choking up her throat. The spicy scent of his closeness was playing games with her mind again. "Who else would take you? Who else would want you? Would you want to inflict a loveless self on anyone you cared about?" Jareth's voice sunk low and arrogant. "I could take it Sarah. I would be your slave. I can teach you how to love again – from the other side."

"I hate yo—" She turned and grabbed his shoulders, driving him backwards onto the bed and hitting him wildly. He grinned up at her. "That's it. I know you want me. You know you want me." Inhumanly fast he grabbed her hands with his and rolled them over. She gasped with an erotic anger as she felt him ease her legs apart with his own, thrusting his hips into her. Her nightgown was up above her waist and she felt the earlier heat in her belly come back at the feel of Jareth's manhood against her. "Hold onto that passion Sarah." He leant down over her, revelling in the feeling of having her so close.

She wrapped her legs around him with a growl, feeling the bulge between them. She rolled again, this time taking them off the bed entirely. Blankets, sheets and pillows followed, wrapping around the pair struggling for dominance. Jareth ended up on top again, although somehow Sarah managed to scoot out from underneath him. Jareth laughed as he pursued her on hands and knees, the motion somehow not looking silly but utterly magnificent as he emerged from beneath the mess of the bedding. Sarah's heart beat wildly with adrenalin, lust, anger and a myriad of fears as she backed up to her chest of drawers.

It was suddenly clear to her what Jareth had been talking about. There was no one that made her feel the way he did, even if it was infuriated. Jareth had stopped moving towards her, although he was still crouched on the floor with his eyes locked on her own. He made her feel wanted. He made her feel strong yet weak at the same time. He was beautiful and exotic and powerful and he wanted her. He made her feel like she couldn't trust her own judgement. He made her feel _alive_.

_The bastard_.

With an inarticulate cry she sprung at him again. Wrapping arms and legs around his taut lean body she desperately pressed her face to his. It was so fierce their teeth clashed together, but he hungrily opened his mouth, plundering hers with passionate kisses. She felt him growl into her as she drew her nails down his back. Wrapping his strong arms around her again he carried her back to the bed, dropping her unceremoniously on the now bare mattress.

She eyed the lump in his trousers with a curious gleam in her eye. He caught her hand as she reached out towards the waistband. "Not yet kitten." He released her wrist to run his still ungloved hand up her arm to brush her hair back off her face. "Not if you want this to last." She flushed and dropped her arm back to her side.

Joining her on the bed he dragged his shirt up and over his head, pulling off his pendant with it. "I knew you'd come around Sarah." He dropped on his side next to her. "I'll look after you kitten. You won't have to worry abo—" His arrogant declarations were cut off as Sarah kissed him again to shut him up. He didn't argue, slipping a hand down between them and massaging Sarah through her panties. Her back arched, grinding her hips onto Jareth's hands and her breasts against his chest. It wasn't like before, with her own hesitant explorations beneath the sheets. Jareth was a master, bringing her to the very brink and back again until she was near sobbing from frustration. The kisses now were getting sloppier as she broke against his mouth. "Please… Jareth… oh please…"

This time he didn't protest as she reached for his pants, letting her help him wriggle out of them. His eyes slid closed as she wrapped her delicate fingers around the shaft, weighing it hot and hard in her hand. She pushed him down on his back with her other hand, relishing the skin-to-skin contact. Fixing her eyes on Jareth's she nodded to his unspoken question, skimming her sodden underwear down her legs and off the side of the bed. She felt his hands on her hips guiding her up, over and slowly down to straddle him with nothing between them. She felt between them to slowly steer her painfully slow (to Jareth) impalement. She felt something inside of her tense and break, and she fell with a cry onto Jareth's chest.

He struggled to stay still within her, the gentle caresses of his hands on her shoulders a welcome change from the fierceness of their foreplay. After a drawn out moment he ventured a question. "Are you alrig—" Again Sarah kissed him to stop his mouth, and with that encouragement he began to move his hips in little circles. As he felt her begin to respond and pick up the rhythm he pulled at her nightgown, helping her to peel it from her sweaty skin. His large hands covered her breasts, cupping them as she rode him on high.

That delicious feeling was growing within her again. She started to push herself harder against Jareth, mewling deep in her throat and he snuck a hand between them once again to caress her most secret of places. Shuddering she arched backwards, the tightening of her muscles around him making Jareth groan. But it was the look of absolute _completion_ on her face that pushed Jareth over the edge, Sarah's insides flooding with heat twice over.

She collapsed once more against his chest, exhausted but at peace. She felt his strong hands stroking her hair down her back, content to just let her rest there for the moment. She broke the silence.

"I love you."

Jareth tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. "No kitten. You don't. Not yet" He said coldly. Bitterly. Sadly. She choked back a sob at being rejected so, the first man she had ever told she had loved, and cried into his chest no less. She lifted herself off of him in a huff, emotions roiling again.

Sarah lay down facing away from him, feeling him get up from the bed. The bed suddenly felt so empty, the loneliness she had felt before his arrival returning a hundred fold. But he was simply gathering the bedding from their earlier romp on the floor. She felt his hands pull up and tuck the blanket around her shoulders, snugly fitting himself in behind her. "Don't regret this pet." He nuzzled softly against her shoulder. "I always take care of what is mine." The unexpected tenderness of his actions contrasted with his jealous tone made tears come to her eyes.

"Sometimes I hate you." She mouthed the words silently into the darkness.

His arm wrapped possessively around her waist. "I know."


	4. The Morning After

A/N: Ok, I know I posted this chapter and then removed this chapter and said I was continuing with this story and then said I wasn't… But now I am again! Doesn't that count for something? And the reason I stopped before was because I was suffering from some serious writer's block on this story and I thought it was better to end at an ending-note rather than leave this chapter hanging. But I have the next chapter now!

As always, I don't own anything in this story (Except the curtains. I lent them to Sarah and she hasn't given them back yet).

And of course, Kiss me, Kill me, Peach me, Flame me… if it makes my writing better than I want to hear it. Enjoy.

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Karen's regimented morning schedule went like this.

6:58 alarm goes off

7:00 get out of bed

7:02 have shower

7:20 have breakfast (one slice of raisin toast, extra butter) and coffee (black)

7:30 wake children.

The digital clock on Sarah's bedside table was a steady red 7:12 when Sarah woke up. She was sticky and overheated, which was odd considering that she wasn't…_wearing… anything… _uh-oh.

That last statement wasn't strictly true. Sarah's nightgown may be hanging off the end of a bedpost and her underwear may be – she craned her head – draped indecorously over a figurine of a unicorn (_ha!_), but she was wearing the arm of an equally naked Goblin King.

7:14

"Hello kitten." Jareth had a wonderful morning voice, not that Sarah had ever been in any particular position to compare. It was husky and sexy. It held promises and secrets. And buried in that delicious accent was something undeniably... smug. Newly abused muscles twinged as she turned in his arms to face him, accuse him of- of- _something._ But she stopped up short.

Sarah had never seen Jareth in the true light of day. Oh she had faced off to him in the Labyrinth, but as far as she could see while she was there the place didn't even have a sun. Here though, the warm glow streaking in between her curtains lit him up in a whole new way. The shadows weren't right. There was no doubt he was still beautiful, and sexy and dangerous. He could be that in a cave at midnight. But the light gave her pause, so she allowed her eyes to track over the ridges and planes of his face; to try and memorise this new Jareth that was still the old Jareth. He had been, after all, both generous and cruel.

7:16

He had watched her watch him, she realised. And had inspected her in turn. She flushed under his scrutiny, wondering whether she looked different this morning. Would the people on the bus whisper as she walked down the aisle, would the teachers send her to the counsellor as soon as they saw her? It seemed impossible that anyone could glance at her and not immediately see what she had done – what she had _enjoyed_.

As her thoughts turned Jareth snared her small wrist, stroking her palm with his own. Sarah closed her eyes at the thought of where those hands had been. 'Sticky fingered' was what Karen called people who touched things they shouldn't… and if they hadn't been sticky when they started then they definitely had been by the time they had finished. Abruptly she tried to withdraw her hand out of Jareth's grasp, but he drew it firmly towards his mouth, his lips opening solemnly.

As the warmth of his tongue slid around her Sarah recoiled once more, only this time he let her go. (7:18) She resisted the urge to wipe her hand on the sheet, intensely aware of the moisture covering her index finger. "Why are you still trying to seduce me?"

"You're still resisting." Underneath the blanket he rested a hand on her hip, lightly squeezing the flesh in mock punishment. "Stop making me try so hard." He brought his face in close to hers, her mouth now quivering a mere inch away from his. This seemingly gentle morning seduction was in reality no different from last night's rough tumbling. There was challenge flaring in his mismatched eyes. If last night's game was one of football, of fights and physical contact, today would be chess. Patterned violence under a veneer of civility. Sarah licked her lips. _And the King was the most important piece._ She exhaled through her nose, warm air tickling Jareth's lips so they twitched. She smiled and tilted her neck forward to claim his mouth with her own. _Pawn sacrificed._ She invaded him with her tongue, shivering with his muffled grunt of desire. _Of course, one often forgot that the Queen was the most powerful player of all… if you knew how to use her properly._

7:20

"Jareth…" she moaned as he trailed his hand lower over the smooth skin of her leg.

7:21

"Jareth…" he shivered as she ran her fingers down over his lean stomach.

7:22

"Jareth…" she begged as he began to pull her legs apart.

7:23

"Jareth…" he grinned under his lashes at her before he lowered his mouth to lick teasingly against her inner thigh.

7:25

And then all of a sudden, he wasn't licking her thigh. Not by a long shot. _Mmmmmm_…

7:28

"JARETH!" she squealed as she saw Karen standing open-mouthed in the doorway.

7:28…

Sarah's clock always had been a little slow.

oo00oo00oo

A/N: I'm leaving up my old comments from the first time I posted this chapter, because I still appreciate those reviews you guys made!

La Pittura: I know what you mean about the 'kitten' thing, because in RL it tends to bother me a lot. But because pet names can be degrading it becomes a power play… and do you really think Jareth would put aside an opportunity to put himself above Sarah, even if it was only verbally?

mcfly85/Christine/Solea: I'm glad that you guys understand the darkness I was going for. I think flaws make things so much more interesting (there's nothing I hate more than perfection).

What Lurks In Shadows: Not that I'd want to, but I could make Jareth + anything/anyone hot sex. He's just that kind of guy. Excuse me while I drool.

starsong: Please don't hurt yourself! I like my reader's able to… uh… read! I'm glad you like my take on things – inspiration from a crystal ball it was :P


	5. Pros & Cons of Supernatural Lovers

A/N: This is a short one, because I just wanted to show everyone I was continuing. There is more forthcoming quite soon. By the way, has anyone here ever been to thelablounge dot com? It's for adult Labyrinth fanfic, but I recommend going there JUST to see flash opening. It's bloody fantastic. And if anyone wants the song that plays, just email me… I hunted it down because I liked it so much.

coughcough Back to the matter at hand! I sum it up as: Not mine, read it anyway.

oo00oo00oo

At Sarah's last shriek Jareth had popped his head up from under the covers, greeting the two women with a full-bodied grin. Sarah looked up at Karen anxiously, half expecting things to start getting thrown.

But then Sarah sighed inwardly with relief – Karen was frozen in the doorway. One of the benefits of having a supernatural being as a lover was the ability to reorder time. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth was open and a forgotten cup of coffee was clenched solidly in her left hand. Jareth repositioned himself alongside Sarah, his hand still possessively placed under the sheet. He seemed quite comfortable to Sarah, but as Karen was still unnervingly regarding them with her frozen stare she turned her head to ask him to do something about it.

But then Sarah almost suffered her third heart attack of the morning as Karen snapped her mouth shut with the comment "I'll see you in the kitchen."

"Did… Did she see?" Sarah whispered hoarsely.

Jareth laughed and stretched. "Kitten, unless she was blind I'm sure she saw quite a lot." With that he rolled out of bed, looking around the room for his clothes. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut as a naked Jareth moved nonchalantly across the room to grab his shirt from where it hung across her armchair. She stiffened as she heard him walk and pause in front of her.

One of the drawbacks to having a supernatural being as a lover was that sometimes they got off on humiliating you.

"I'm not opening my eyes until you get some clothes on."

Jareth sighed. "That's what I'm trying to do, if you'd be so kind as to pass me my pants."

"Not those clothes!" Sarah could feel a note of desperation enter her voice. "Magic yourself up some new ones or something. Your usual Kingly outfit isn't going to exactly blend in up here."

Jareth stood before her, waiting. "My pants." He sounded bored.

After a few second's silence when it was obvious that Sarah intended to do nothing but remain in bed with her eyes closed Jareth clicked his tongue in aggravation. Sarah gasped as she felt his body push against hers impatiently, at once fearing and desiring a repeat of whatever had passed between them last night. This was not to say that she wanted more sex; her muscles were sore and the thought of Karen sitting in the kitchen waiting for them was more than she could bear. But what had passed between them last night? It had been something else entirely. But Jareth moved away again – discarded pants gripped in hand – before Sarah could begin to digest her thoughts. "You can open your eyes now."

Contrary to the Sarah's understanding of the laws of physics, Jareth was not wearing his Goblin King attire. Though Sarah's sexless mood was wiped away as she sized up his modern attire. Tight dark jeans – _does this man ever buy pants that actually fit him_? – and a deep red turtleneck. He twirled his usual cape around his shoulders, Sarah blinking as it morphed into a respectable black overcoat, fitting perfectly. He sat down on her armchair, pulling on his gloves. These, she was uncertainly pleased to see, remained the same. He wiggled his fingers in the air with the air of someone checking the draw of a weapon, before forming a steeple with them in front of his face. "Well?"

"Well what?" Sarah retorted, unsure of where things were headed.

"You got to watch me dress." He gestured around the room with his eyes, smirking. "Now don't I get the same pleasure?" Despite the lightness in his voice, his eyes looked dangerously eager.

"I didn't watch you!" Sarah gripped the sheet tighter to her chest.

"Not my fault if you forfeited your morning-after rights pet." At her steely glare he sighed dramatically, and closed his eyes. Sarah still wrapped the sheet around her as she stood, moving awkwardly to the dresser and clambering ineptly into the first things she could grab before dropping her material shield. She coughed politely to let Jareth know he could look, but soon furrowed her brows at the look on his face. "What?" She looked down at her simple 'jeans and a t-shirt' number.

He stood and approached her, lifting her head with a finger under the chin. "These garments are simply not suitable." He reversed the drift of his hand, allowing his finger to run straight down the centre of her torso. Under his touch her shirt changed from a drab blue to a vibrant green. Under his touch she quivered. Under his touch she felt bare. She turned to survey the change in the mirror, and laughed. No wonder she had felt exposed! The high-necked top had suddenly become quite daringly cut. "Change it back."

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "This looks much better."

"I like this shirt. Change it back." Sarah demanded exasperatedly. He looked like he was about to argue, but thought better of it and snapped his fingers, restoring the shirt to its earlier design. "The colour stays." He stated definitively as he started towards the door.

As she followed him out of the room muttering under her breath about domineering men, Sarah did have to admit his taste for fashion: the green set off her eyes perfectly. In fact, if it wasn't for some of the more strenuous activities of last night, she would have drawn some very definite conclusions about a certain Goblin King.

Sarah was forced had to abandon her idle thoughts… and hasten to catch up with Jareth before he reached the kitchen. She grabbed him by the arm. "Let me do the talking." She hissed before insinuating herself in front of him to enter first. His eyes narrowed – She really had no idea of the proper respect that a King was due. But Sarah missed the dangerous look as she was already squaring her shoulders for the next confrontation.

Karen.

She stepped through the door.


End file.
